Currently on hold with Dexcom in an attempt to get that damned receiver (reader) for my new blood glucose monitor.
Nice generic on hold music. It’s mild but not entirely uninteresting. Pleasant two-guitar harmonies, subtle backing strings, little twinkly piano accents. Not bad.
I am forcing myself to do this now, even though lunch and blogging are waiting, because I don’t want to lose momentum and end up “forgetting” about it and letting things slide until it’s half a year later and doing it seems impossible.
I know my own foibles. I develop aversions far too easily. Once I start avoiding a task it is very hard for me to stop.
The only solution is to get that shit done ASAP.
It will never be easier than it is RIGHT NOW.
There! Done. Tout finis. I will be getting my receiver in the mail either late this week or early next week. I have gotten shit done.
And that feels really good.
Weird. But good.
After being on hold for ten minutes I had a pleasant conversation with a fellow named RyAN who had an eduCATED Quebec acCENT and therefore put the emPHASIS on the wrong syllABLES but whose EngLISH was otherwise superb and rather melodious.
Made me a little homesick, to be honest. Though the people back home do NOT sound like that unless they are being really, really sarcastic.
I’m especially proud of getting it done today because I am having a sleepy day and skipping it was very very tempting.
So was skipping lunch entirely but I know not to do that. It leads to bad things like low blood sugar incidents and extreme hunger and feeling very stupid.
Because it is.
So now I am eating my lunch and doing my words and basking in the glow of my self-victory, which feels so much better than self-defeat.
Weirder. But better.
Better get used to it, Trog!
My mood is still trending towards badness. Anger and irritability are rising despite my attempts to stay positive.
So instead I am trying to harness this accumulating energy for the cause of good. Use it to lift up my mood instead of dragging it down. Use its vital energy to force open the doors of my mind to let some sunshine and joy for a change.
This is new territory for me but I am eager to explore it. Might even be able to get a little transcendence out of it if I play my cards right.
God knows I could use it. I have wallowed in the miasma of my own sad self for far too long. I need something beyond myself that I can draw upon as a source of renewal.
And lacking an early religious indoctrination, I will pretty much have to invent it myself. It would be nice to believe there is some vast cosmic reservoir of love, hope, strength, and goodness out there somewhere just waiting for me to tap into it, but I know there is no such thing and that whatever I find in my mind is me, no matter how it presents itself.
But I have a powerful imagination that creates potent and compelling things all the time, just as a matter of course.
Dreaming up a sort of personal version of God that works for me seems well within its capacities. After all, it doesn’t have to be totally real.
Just real enough.
Weird. But real enough.
More after the break.
Another lost evening
Got sushi from Otaru on the way, Yay.
But I feel depressed. It’s been dogging me on and off all day, Like a noxious black cloud waiting to engulf me at the worst possible moment.
Everything seems so stupid and pointless. The world is dying, I’m dying, and an evil little voice in my head keeps saying, “why delay the inevitable? Get off this death train while you still can! End it now, beat the rush!”.
Fuck you, you evil little shitstain. I’ll stay alive just to spite you.
It’s not the most noble of reasons not to kill yourself, but it works.
And as always, suicide is never really about suicide. It’s about wanting the pain to end. It’s about needing to escape your inner prosecutor the only way you can imagine. It’s about being so very very tired inside that you would do anything to finally get to rest.
That’s why so many of us abuse substances. One of the only surefire ways of turning your brain completely off and forcing a reboot is to get blackout drunk, or the equivalent with other drugs.
It’s the same principle as when they use ECT (Electro Convulsive Therapy) to treat depression. A little voltage across the right part of the surface of the brain and the patient has a completely painless and harmless seizure which they will not even remember, and that forces their brains to reboot and suddenly all those half-finished thoughts and unprocessed emotions and other mental debris is gone and you brain is running so very much better.
I still want to try that, even though TCMS (Trans-Cranial Magnetic Stimulation) is a far more sophisticated and subtle tool.
Fuck suble. Just knock me the fuck out already.
It’s like rebooting your computer when it’s starting to run slow and/or get a lot of errors.
But the computer is your BRAIN!
LOL. My DoorDash delivery person on the phone : “Um, hello, this is DoorDash and I;m at…the door?”.
Awwww. So shy and awkward. Poor girl, must be new.
You did just fine, dear.
Feeling a little better than before. The Diet Pepsi[1] is helping, as is the sushi.
This time I avoided tempura like it was black olives (shudder). Got the beef roll I wished I had gotten last time.
It seems to have a little bit of yam in it. Oh well, I am still getting my B12.
What a tasty meal that was! And with nothing to make me sluggish or weigh me down.
Part of me is still screaming for carbs, but fuck that. It’s just an addiction. If I refuse to feed it for long enough, it will die.
And good fucking riddance.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.